


Here's to You

by KalasFiction



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalasFiction/pseuds/KalasFiction
Summary: A drabble that I wrote for ff.net TEN YEARS AGO. Holy hawt balls! Thought I'd put it here for the larks.Alvin has been dying for the opportunity to drown his sorrows for a while now. The mercenary wants some alone time but that may not be the best idea.Can be set anytime that the party is all together towards the end of the first chapter of the game. And I've messed with Jude's age to make him over 18 because that makes me feel better.





	1. Alvin

**Chapter One: Alvin POV**

* * *

 

The inn is all but deserted in this quiet little town so we'll have our own rooms tonight which is a bonus as I've felt incredibly cranky lately. Rowen snores and Jude mumbles and my nightmares have reared their ugly heads. I'm not surprised that my fellow-men look just as relieved as I am that the Gald will go far enough for a little personal space. Oh and there is a bar. Things keep on looking up. I snort at my optimism and no one notices.

I'm paying very little attention as the others make plans but I get the gist. Rowen will take Leia and Elize shopping for supplies tomorrow, Jude will stay at the inn and study his healing arts and Milla is going to do what ever the hell the Lord of Spirits does in down time and I-

"Alvin'll be off sending secret notes!"

"Ouch Spud." I say nonchalantly, raking a hand through my hair and bopping the floating menace on the head for good measure. I fully intend to be sleeping off one hell of a hangover, but I won't share this with the group. I'd rather they think I'm off sending my 'secret notes' than realise the state I intend to get myself into when they've all snuggled into their dreams. We have dinner together and they retire to their rooms while I waste time in the streets until it's late enough to return.

The bar is mercifully empty when I step back inside, there is one man covering the bar and the reception, he is cleaning a glass and looks incredibly bored. The lights are low and the stairs quiet. No one is lurking in the shadows, no light glints off the barrel of a gun and I shake my head, smirking at myself. I approach the bar and pull up a stool, placing a large sack of gald on the counter I nod to the only other soul on this floor. He is young, probably only a little older than Jude and when he smiles at me his eyes glint in a very similar way, any other night I might ask him to join me but I need some alone time. I gesture to the sack of gald. "Will this be enough?"

To his credit the small smile doesn't leave his pretty face through his confusion. "For what Sir?"

"For you to leave me alone with your bar if I promise to behave myself?" I smirk at him.

"That isn't something I'd usually do Sir..." He looks at me from under long lashes and I get the feeling mother and father must be away, this is his first time running the show alone for the night. I sigh gently and look calmly back at him. "But wait! Didn't you and your companions win the famous Xian Du tournament for the Kitarl clan?" His young eyes light up in excitement.

"Oh uh, yeah. That we did..."

"Have a good night Sir." He bows and retreats, locking the front door of the inn and heading to his private quarters.

I walk around the bar and select a bottle of whisky, not caring about the brand or the taste, I take in the percentage, this should get me where I want to go. I return to my stool and pour my first drink. I drink to my mother. Again and again. The bottle goes down far too easily and I can thank my large statue and many years drinking experience for being able to stand and get my second bottle. I'm about a quarter of the way down said bottle when my vision, which has already doubled or tripled, starts to fog and the tears start. They disgust me, hot and wet and so so painful. Another quarter down and they stop as suddenly as they started, just in time I think as I can hear someone on the stairs. I hope fleetingly that it's Jude, as much as I hate the idea of him seeing me like this. Jude...

This infatuation has to end. The kid (and that's all he is) loves Milla, any fool can see that and even if he had shown the slightest bit of interest in me he will only distract me from my goals. So I will continue as I have been, watching him, protecting him, worrying about him and burying myself in people as similar to him as possible when the loneliness becomes too much to bare. All at once I feel an intense wave of shame and I think I might cry again. Idiot. I take a large gulp from my glass with numb lips as Jude approaches to steady myself and take a long look at him over the rim. I kick the stool next to me over to him and he sits silently. I suddenly feel the need to make conversation, to be the Alvin he expects, I plaster a lazy grin on my face and slur at him. "The barman looked like you."

He looks confused, like the barman earlier. I giggle and he stares at me. "Er. Okay. Are you alright Alvin?"

"Never better," I mumble and think I should offer him a drink but I have neither the ability or inclination to get up and go find another glass. He lays his hands on the bar, no doubt enjoying the cool surface on the callous' that are sure to be developing with this much fighting, something I do quite often myself. Milla is right, his hands are quite large for a guy of his size. Hmm, what do they say about large hands...

I want to touch him. I want to touch him so much it hurts, I don't though. Instead I busy myself by pouring another drink, I know this is about the tenth too many and prove it to myself by spilling half of it on the bar. Shit, what a waste. But wait! The colour of the whiskey! It matches his eyes perfectly. "Huh. Just like your pretty eyes." I ramble to myself and look up from the spill.

My father is sat across the bar from me, that constant glare on his strict face. Part of me knows this can't be happening, but a much larger, much more inebriated part of me rocks back on my stool to escape and Uncle makes a grab for my arm. No no no! I flail backwards, striking Uncle in the face and sending my drink flying. I land unceremoniously on my backside as the glass shatters on the stone floor, amber liquid spreading like a blood stain from so many wounds. Now it is a game of survival, if I don't move I will be hit, me against my father and my uncle. Not good. I'm far too drunk to get up and run so I opt for the next best thing, a undignified shuffle backwards until my back hits the far wall and then I just cover my face with my hands as I've done so many times before and wait for the blows to land. My wrist is grabbed and I feel like I've jumped a foot in the air. Not my wrists! They'll see. I'll be in so much trouble! The small, very small part of me who thought this couldn't be happening is silent now and the despair, the terror hits me full force. I'm eight years old again and this is never going to end because Mother is gone now. My protector. Gone gone gone. I ache to join her but she's in a better place and I would never be admitted, never be allowed to follow...

"Can you look at me Alvin?"

That voice. That beautiful, soothing voice that I can't resist, I peek out from between my fingers and glance around frantically for the owner. "Jude?" My own voice is small and timid and very very rough. I can't believe he's here. What happened to Father and Uncle? I desperately want my mother. "Yes Alvin," he sounds relieved, "it's me." He sounds so kind as he gently takes hold of one of my wrists and pulls it away from my face, I move my other hand down too because if he is here then Father cannot be here and he can take Uncle. I know he can. But of course Father and Uncle have gone, they were never here. Mother is dead and I am heinously drunk.

"There. That's better." He has that very lovely glint in his eyes and I wonder how I could have compared the barman to him earlier, "Do you know where you are?" I think I've frightened him so I nod slowly, "'m sorry I broke the glass." I offer, and suddenly I'm very very tired, I hang my head in shame and the depression I have tried to subdue within myself roars aloud and I wish it would all just stop. I wish I was de- "DON'T!" I shout as he gets up to leave me. If he leaves me now I don't know what I'll do to myself, I own so many knives. And guns.

"Shh!" He hushes me and I feel stupid and embarrassed for yelling, "Alvin you'll wake everyone up!"

Alvin. Pfft. Who the hell is Alvin? A coward, a mercenary and a master of betrayal. A man with so many faces that I don't recognise my reflection anymore. Everything was so much simpler when I was just Alfred. I am Alfred and I cannot be left alone. I grab his hand and won't let go, silently begging him not to leave me. Perhaps not so silently, he frowns and leans towards me and I hold my breath. I need him. I  _want_ him. "Alvin, I can't hear you." I grit my teeth, he needs to make up his mind. Stupid kid. Messing with me. I try to think of something typically scathing to say. "Don't leave me." Hmm. Not what I was aiming for. I am so weak! Telling this boy that I need him just so I can watch him use it against me.

"I won't leave you Alvin." No that's wrong. My mother named me Alfred. I tell him so. "Okay Alfred," he says, that confused frown creasing his angelic face once more. "Now come on, we should get you to bed." Oh take me to your bed Jude. Please.  _Please._  He hauls me up with difficulty owing to my larger frame and uncooperative muscles, I stand (well sway) before him waiting. Needing him to take me with him. Do whatever he wants with me, I will not relinquish my grip on his hand, I stumble forwards after him struggling to get my legs to listen to my increasingly muddled brain. I have to keep stopping and steadying myself on furniture on the way to the stairs as wave after wave of nausea hits me, I can't make an even bigger fool of myself in front of Jude. We climb the stairs together and I walk straight into him as he stops at my bedroom door, the contact it delicious and I press into him as I slur into his ear that the door is unlocked and he leads me in, locking the door behind him. I keep his hand. It is mine now. The room starts spinning and I try frantically to steady my breathing. "Do you need to vomit?" No. No! That would be mortifying. I shouldn't have shaken my head. I dart for the small bathroom adjoining my room, dragging him behind me and only just make it.

I can't remember the last time I was this sick or this pathetic or this ashamed of myself.  _I'm_ supposed to take care of  _him._  ...But my goal... My stomach has nothing else to offer up but my body is not satisfied. To my utter revulsion I start to dry heave and sob like a child and I WANT TO DIE. He can't see me like this, I turn away from his comforting hand and flee. I launch myself onto my bed face down and pray that I pass out. I think Jude is undressing me, oh I want him, I want to please him. But he loves Milla. Why is he doing this? I'm so confused but the room has stopped spinning at least so I roll onto my back and cautiously crack open one eye. His face! His adorable face is bruised high on his cheek bone and I finally realise that it was him I hit. Not Uncle. Uncle was never here.

"Your face..." I hear myself say and my self-hatred multiplies as he tentatively touches his cheek and hisses in pain. "It's nothing Alfred." He lies. But everyone lies to me and I lie to everyone so I can't hold it against him. "Don't worry about it." I won't . After all I'll have to so much worse to him in the future. To steal a line from Maxwell, "I must complete my mission." But I can't.

"Can't." I say defiantly, and softer "don't be mad?" My boot is pulled off roughly, I notice that the other one came off a while a go, he looks up at me and my heart stops. "Why would I be mad?" He smiles at me, cocking his head to one side, "You should sleep now or you'll never be able to face the morning." Stay with me angel. Stay with my while I die in my sleep. It will be so much easier, for all of us. "I don't want to face the morning." I say instead. He frowns moving slowly up the bed and sits next to my head, leaning against the headboard legs out stretched, he gestures for me to elaborate. He has been so kind to me, he's earned an explanation I guess or at least part of one. Or just something that isn't a lie. "My Mother." I take a breath, "she died." I say flatly.

"Oh Alvin." The closes his eyes, "I'm so sorry." The pity in his voice is over whelming and it makes me angry. Not to mention he got my name wrong. He doesn't care! Of course he doesn't. Stupid fucking KID! I don't want to  _be_ Alvin anymore! I hate Jude with everything I have in this moment for reminding me of the name I gave myself so I roll away from him, standing up and crossing the room. "ALFRED!" I shout at him, he flinches and moves into a defense position on the bed, I feel better. Proud even. If I can still scare him I can still hurt him. But I don't want to hurt him. Do I?! I'm so angry with myself, I feel so betrayed, so disturbed and so very humiliated. Still, if he fears me then at least that means he still respects me. That is how it works. Uncle says so. Someone knocks on the door and I unlock it with shaking hands before pulling it open with force as I try, and mostly succeed, to compose myself. It is Maxwell. She takes in the scene before her, me disheveled and wild-eyed staring down at her and Jude on the bed still in a defensive stance. She casually lays her hand upon the hilt of her sword and I reach for my ever-present hand gun. Jude is off the bed and between us in an instant, assuring Milla that everything is fine, that we are just discussing tactics, that there is nothing to worry about, that we are FINE. He practically shuts the door in her face with constant reassurances and smiles. I sag and feel a single tear slip down my cheek. I can't do this anymore, the fight has left me and I just want to sleep. Or die. Or take Jude against the wall. Not that I have the strength for the latter. I'm shaking when Jude takes my hand, and leads me back towards the bed. I comply wordlessly as he helps me to lay down and covers me with a blanket, I instantly curl into the fetal position. "I'm sorry Jude." I mutter, not entirely sure which of my many wrongs I'm apologising for but needing to say something.

"It's alright," he sounds exhausted, "get some sleep. I've left water on the side for you and I'll see you in the morning." He looks for a moment like he wants to say something else but stops, looking at my face. I can feel the tears coming but I don't care anymore. About anything. Screw this.

"No." I scoot away from him over to the other side of the bed.

"Alfred?" He watches me cautiously.

"You said you wouldn't leave me." I think I sound petulant.

"I'm only going to be across the hall..." He is swaying on his feet, the kid is so tired. Can't wait to escape me.

"No! Your leaving me." I tell him quietly, "they all do. I'm nothing... I'm... Nothing." I meant to sound matter of fact, like it doesn't hurt but my eyes are betraying me so I cover my head with the blankets so he won't see. He doesn't say anything and I wait for the sound of the door announcing his departure so I can let go but it never comes. Instead the bed sinks as he resumes his earlier position and I flinch as he pulls me into his arms with strength I didn't realise he has. I can't handle my emotions anymore. Everything crashes down around me so I wind my arms around his slim waist, bury my head in his lap and cry.


	2. Jude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that this chapter has far more going on despite being set at the exact same time as the last one. The reason for this is simple. Jude isn't messed up beyond belief but poor Alvin is. While Jude is noticing everything, I'm surprised Alvin even knows where he is. Finally, I've taken a few lines directly from the game. See if you can spot them.

**Chapter Two: Jude POV**

* * *

 

It has been a rough few days lately, I mean they are all pretty rough but the last few days have felt harder to get through. Like there is an atmosphere surrounding our little group that we just can't shake, a cloud forming that I can't put my finger on, and this is why I look long and hard at our Gald supply and suggest we spend at least one night in a reasonable inn with comfy beds and preferably our own rooms. I think that maybe we could all use some personal space and some down time, but I still have to convince the Lord of Spirits... I jog to catch up to Milla, at the head of the group as usual, who looks lost in her own thoughts.

"Milla?"

"Jude. I was just thinking about food." This girl is always thinking about food! I laugh gently and tell her so, she takes it in good humor and asks how she can help.

"Well, I was thinking about it and... er, I think we could all do with some resting time. I know the mission is important but lately I've felt off, like I need a good nights sleep and a little time to practice my healing arts. We've got a lot coming and I want to be ready!" I finish my little pitch and she frowns, looking concerned.

"Jude, if you are worried about your healing ability you need not be. I have found you to be quite sufficient in the field." I sigh, she's not buying it, I am doomed to another night in a tent or sleeping in packs of three trying to ignore Rowen's snoring and Alvin's restlessness. "However," she continues, "I believe that you have a valid point, we have a long and difficult journey ahead and I don't know when we'll be able to rest easy again. Also I... Hmm, how to describe it... I feel as if a storm is coming." I nod in agreement, so she's felt it too, I hope a night (or a couple, fingers crossed) in a decent environment will revitalise everyone. I fall back to the rear of the group and return to my own thoughts once more as we head to the nearest Seahaven.

I don't want any mutton! Why does it seem where ever I go, I am pestered to buy mutton and why have all these inns started to look the same? Or maybe they don't and I've just been travelling long enough for them all to blend into one. Who cares. We enter the inn and it looks desolate, the bar to the left is empty, as is the seating area to the right. I'm surprised at the lack of people and ask the young hotelier about it, he explains that this inn is always quiet but has practically died since the ships stopped bringing in trade. His parents, who own and run this little place, are off touring the towns to try to drum up business and have left him in charge but he wasn't expecting to get any customers so we've made his day. I like him, its nice to talk to someone about normal stuff for once, we chat for a little while longer until Alvin snorts behind me and I suppose I should get our rooms sorted. He is over joyed when I ask for six rooms, but can only offer four doubles and one twin, he looks so relieved when Leia and Elize leap at the opportunity to share that I have to laugh, the thought of a double bed all to myself buoying me up even more. I ask him to lead on and he gives us the tour. The bar is open to us and he will be running it himself later if I'd care to join him for a night-cap (I just might), the seating area is pretty basic and doubles up as a dining room. We offer to prepare our own meal as he is on his own, and he is welcome to join us. He declines politely and leads on to our rooms, Elize and Leia will be on the ground floor at the front of the inn and one of the other rooms is on this floor. Milla doesn't have a choice, she is staying in that one so that the girls can 'pretty much have a slumber party and talk all things cute'. The mighty Maxwell looks terrified but resigned to her fate and nods her head with dignity. Us guys will be on the first floor, Rowen will go right to far the end of the corridor to 'protect us from his snoring', leaving Alvin and I to choose out of the last two. I really don't care, they both have adjoining bathrooms and a double bed, and when Alvin asks for the one immediately at the top of the stairs I agree and take the one opposite. It is the first time Alvin has spoken the whole time we've been here or made any sound at all since the odd snort downstairs, he doesn't seem to be paying attention at all and I wonder what's got him so distracted. I'm about to ask when Milla's stomach growls loudly and we head back down to the dining area to eat.

"We have more Gald than we seem to know what to do with." Milla says to me over her soda rice, she has very odd tastes in food. Fizzy rice?

"I guess fighting monsters is more profitable than we thought." I reply somewhat sadly, I still don't like fighting and I doubt I ever will.

"Perhaps we could extend our stay by a night," Rowen suggests, "I would like to take Miss Elize and Miss Leia shopping for supplies tomorrow and catch up a little on their education..." The broad smiles that had plastered themselves to the girls' faces at the mention of 'shopping' slide off at the prospect of schooling and Elize moves to cover Teepo's mouth quickly. "That would be wonderful Rowen." She says, ever the polite little lady. Leia doesn't say anything but I think Rowen will have a battle on his hands tomorrow. Good luck to him. I tell the others that I plan to study too, trying in part to soften the blow from Rowen and just to make conversation. Milla says she will make plans tomorrow and I turn to look at Alvin, I'm about to ask him what he wants to do when Teepo interrupts.

"Alvin'll be off sending secret notes!" The doll says shrilly and I look to Elize, she is glaring up at the mercenary.

"Ouch Spud." He replies halfheartedly, reaching over the knock Teepo on the head, but doesn't expand on what he will be doing. I feel disappointed, I want him to deny it and he won't. My feelings about Alvin are constantly shifting, I know he has betrayed us. And that he will most likely do it again, but he is just so... I don't know... Always smiling, laughing, making fun of me... That's it! It hits me with a jolt. Alvin hasn't  _been_ Alvin at all these last few days, maybe that's not the only thing causing this strange atmosphere but it is certainly a massive part of it, for me anyway. I turn to talk the him about it but realise that I've been stuck in my thoughts for too long as the others are cleaning up the food and a brown coat disappears out the front door. I consider following him but have no idea what I'd like to say. So I bid goodnight to the others, Leia and Elize have Milla in between them and are frog marching her into their room and Rowen joins me on the stairs.

"Rowen? Can I ask you something?" The conductor smiles as me endearingly and nods.

"You may certainly ask me a further question." He says, eyes twinkling. I ignore his little joke and the temptation to roll my eyes along with it.

"Have you noticed any differences in Alvin?" I don't have to elaborate as Rowen is already nodding again.

"Indeed I have, I wondered if something has happened that he can not or will not share with us."

"You mean he is going to betray us again..." I hang my head in resignation, this is starting to hurt on a far more personal level that I'm willing to admit.

"Not necessarily." I look up quickly. "We are all entitled to a personal life Jude, it could just be that Alvin needs a friend to talk to."

"Hmm." I say noncommittally, "I guess I could try talking to him when he gets back. But I don't know what to say."

Ilbert studies me for what feels like forever and I have to look at the floor as my face heats up. "You can retire to your room and think on it until tomorrow." He says finally, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I bid you goodnight Jude." He removes his hand and climbs the stairs stiffly, another reason for two nights here.

"G'night Rowen." I reply before following him and entering my room. It is fairly typical hotel room, bathroom off to the right. It is small but it is  _mine!_ Not queuing tomorrow behind three girls is a wonderful prospect, and it's not just the girls. Rowen and Alvin are no bathroom saints either... The bed is in the middle of the room and it is huge, there is a desk in the opposite corner to the bathroom door and I throw my coat over the back of the chair, kick off my boots and lie down in the dead centre of MY bed. It is a wonderful feeling. I am so comfy and am just starting to relax when my thoughts return to my favourite mercenary... Wait what?! When my thoughts return to Alvin. Now I've noticed that something is up with him I realise that he has been withdrawn from the group and that Teepo's insults have not been cast aside with his usual retorts, he's been distracted and tired during out travelling times but it has not effected his skills in battle. If anything he has been more focused, linking with me nine times out of ten, yelling at me to keep my guard up and putting himself between the monsters and I a little more than is strictly necessary. I close my eyes and my thoughts turn to nonsense, I find myself thinking about Alvin's hair. He always complains that the battles mess it up but it's  _always_ messy. Well kind of. Maybe that is why he takes so long in the bathroom... I smile at my own stupid musings and drift into a peaceful sleep.

I know I've been dreaming when I wake up but that is fine with me, I can't remember details but there was soft brown hair and beautiful eyes and when I glance down at myself I am very pleased that I've got my own room... I wonder what woke me up and silently curse what ever it was. It isn't too dark outside so I may as well get up and see if the hotelier is still up for that night-cap. In a while. When certain things have subsided...

I slide my feet back into my boots but don't bother with my over clothes or armour, I don't often get to dress down and relish the lightness of my black trousers and white shirt as I head out. The lights on the stairs and below are already turned down and I realise I've missed my new friend, I'm not worried - I'll catch up with him tomorrow, I'm about to return to my room when a strange sound catches my attention. It sounds like an animal snuffling about and it sounds hurt, I ball up my fists by my hips and descend the stairs slowly, the seating area is clear but I can't see into the bar. It's too dark, I move closer and wait for my eyes to adjust when they do I'm surprised to see a figure slumped over the counter, nursing a drink. There is an empty whisky bottle near the figures side and another half empty one next to his right hand, said hand is holding a glass far too tightly. I know instantly who it is and I couldn't force myself up those stairs and leave him if I wanted to.

Alvin has certainly been drinking heavily, I'd know even if I hadn't seen the bottles, his eyes are bleary and moist as he peers at me over the rim of his glass. I look at the time, the bar shouldn't be void of staff this early in the evening and I realise that Alvin must have bribed my new friend to leave the bottle (or bottles?) and make himself scarce. Wordlessly a vacant bar stool is kicked towards me and I take a seat without question, taking in Alvin's appearance. He looks quite calm and collected outwardly but his eyes give him away, they are swirling with emotions I can't identify and I am a little wary of where this situation might take us. I have no idea what kind of drunk Alvin is but I think happy is way off... He is still wearing his brown coat despite apparently being inside for a few hours, the thought of him getting into this state alone while I was napping peacefully upstairs unsettles me and I wish I'd been here for him. I can only try to make up for it now I guess, I still can't think of anything to say, asking if he's all right seems pretty dumb so I just watch him. He doesn't offer me and drink and I definitely don't ask for one. I suspect it will be enough of a challenge to get him back upstairs as it is, I get the feeling that maybe Alvin has waited for us to get our own rooms for some time and has now taken full advantage of the opportunity not be observed by Rowen or myself. Upon this realisation I am about to excuse myself and leave him to his thoughts that I so rudely interrupted when he sighs deeply into his glass before plastering an incredibly fake grin onto his face.

"The barman looked like you." He slurs, trying to focus on me and failing miserably. His voice is full of false gusto and I have no  _idea_ what he is talking about. He lets out a little giggle unlike any sound I've ever heard from him. "Er. Okay." I pause, frowning in confusion and readying myself for an evening of oddities from the mercenary. "Are you all right Alvin?" So much for avoiding that question, I wonder if I can take care of this type of situation, or take care of Alvin come to that.

"Never better." He mutters and finishes the drink in his hand. I place my hands flat on the bar counter to soothe my palms, I hadn't noticed my nails digging in when my fists were clenched. I am not a natural fighter... I catch Alvin watching me and his gaze rests on my hands, he screws his eyes up tight and shakes his head. He turns his attention away from me and attempts to refill his glass, he deftly slops almost half of the amber liquid onto the bar before him. "Huh... S'like... Eyes..."

I'm about to ask him to repeat himself when he sways dangerously backwards on his stool and I try to grab hold of his arm to steady him, to catch him but he flails violently out of my reach. Several things happen at once; one of us knocks his drink off the bar, I get caught in the face by one of his gloved hands and he falls gracelessly onto the floor. "Al-" I begin but stop suddenly at the look in the mercenaries eyes, they are bloodshot and wide and staring at the broken glass with an expression I can only read as terror within their depths. He scoots back on the stone floor until his back collides with the far wall, his hands come up to cover this face and he goes very very still. I look on in shock and consider leaving to fetch Rowen or even Milla, I can't help but feel way out of my comfort zone here, but something tells me that Alvin would not easily forgive the intervention. Besides I'm a doctor, I can handle this... Maybe.

I take a deep, steadying breath and move tentatively towards my cowering companion. He doesn't react or look up so I continue until I'm sat on my haunches directly in front of him. "Alvin?" I ask quietly, he doesn't respond so I reach out to take one of his wrists, I make contact and he reacts just as violently as he did before to my touch, making me start. "Shhh, Alvin, it's okay, it's me... Jude." I keep my voice soft and low and hopefully reassuring as I was taught to speak to traumatised patients; "Can you look at me Alvin?"

He peeks out at me from between his fingers and I am stunned by how young, how vulnerable, he looks. I wonder if he has gotten lost somewhere between the exhaustion, the alcohol and whatever has had him acting for weird for the last couple of days. "...Jude?"

I barely make out my name, with all his brashness and bravado swept aside he sounds so broken but I'm still relieved that he answers me. "Yes Alvin it's me." I reply, reaching out again to take one of his wrists cautiously and this time he lets me, I move it gently away from his face and his other hand follows suit on its own. "There." I start, feeling a little more in control of the situation, I dip my head to look him right in the eye. "That's better. Do you know where you are?" He meets my eyes and nods but I'm not convinced.

"'m sorry I broke the glass." He whispers, looking away quickly and avoiding my gaze, looking anywhere but at me. It's as if he expects to be reprimanded so I smile and catch hold of his chin, forcing him to look at me and I'd quite like to kiss him to make him feel safe. Instead I reassure him; "It's okay Alvin, I'm sure you've spent enough gald in here for them to let one glass slide."

Thinking about it, I'm surprised that our little commotion hasn't attracted any attention but then I suppose it is late and everyone should be sleeping soundly. I look back at my comrade to see his eyes closed, head starting to loll on his shoulder. If I let him fall asleep here I'll never get him back to his room without help, I huff out a breath lightly and struggle to my feet. His eyes snap open and I step back in alarm as he shouts "DON'T!" Loud enough to wake the whole inn and I shush him frantically, bending before him again and he takes one of my hands in a iron grip. "...Me..." I missed that. I lean in closer and ask him to repeat himself, he looks agitated for the briefest moment before he replies. "Don't leave me." His voice is so small and timid and just  _un-Alvin_ that I decide that it's now or never to get him back to his room.

"I won't leave you Alvin - "

"Alfred." He cuts me off, eyes focused on the floor before him, "she named me Alfred."

I don't understand but I also don't think it matters much. "Okay Alfred. Now come on, we should get you to bed." I offer him my other hand and haul him off the cold floor with very little finesse, he is a foot or so taller than me and a lot more dense after all. I fully expect him to throw an arm around my shoulders as he has done so many times before but he doesn't, instead he sways on his feet before me with his head down. He drops one of my hands but tightens his grip on the other and I take it that I should lead. I tug him forwards and he seems content to stumble along behind me as I head for the stairs. It is slow work as when we get to the seating area he keeps pausing, grasping the backs of the chairs we pass and taking deep, shuddering breaths. I have a feeling I am going to need a bucket when we eventually make it back upstairs. Ascending doesn't seem to be too difficult for him in the end, he grips the rail and my hand so tightly that my knuckles turn white. We reach his door and I stop but he doesn't, he walks straight into me and pushes up against my back. My face heats up but I don't stop him, my dream from earlier is coming to the fore front of my mind and I realise that I might have been suppressing something for my favourite mercenary for a while but now is  _not_ the time. Alvin slurs "s'open..." right into my ear and I certainly don't think about how his voice travels distinctly  _south_ or how his breath tickles my ear or how often I've actually dreamed about he and I outside his bedroom door together without admitting it to myself. Because that would be incredibly inappropriate, not to mention that I'd be majorly taking advantage. I pull him into the room and lock the door behind us, the room is laid out exactly the same as mine, Alvin still has my hand in unbreakable grip and is breathing deeply again. "Alv- Alfred... Do you need to vomit?" If he hears me slip up on his name he doesn't mention it, he starts to shake his head before stopping suddenly and looking at me with wide eyes.

We clatter into the adjoining bathroom together and make it just in time, Alvin vomits with agonising force and I have never been so grateful for an en suite in all my life. I rub soothing circles on his back and wince in sympathy as his body rejects what seems to be everything he has put into it in the last twenty-four hours. It seems like forever has passed when the vomiting turns to dry heaving and what I'd think was sobbing if it wasn't  _Alvin_ I was taking care of. Before I can dwell too much on that, the mercenary lifts his head and stumbles to his feet, refusing once more to meet my eyes, and staggers the short distance to his bed. He falls gracelessly forwards and screws his eyes up tight. I raise an eyebrow and fill a glass of water for him, I place it on the bedside table and make a start on trying to remove his stupidly complicated boots. I've got one off when he moans low in his throat and rolls onto his back, he opens one swollen eye to stare at my face groggily. He looks incredulous, then confused and finally as guilty as sin. "Your face." He mutters before starting to chew on his lower lip.

"Huh?" I bring my hand up to my cheek and hiss in surprise, apparently the area he accidentally struck me in earlier is more bruised than I noticed. "It's nothing Alfred. Don't worry about it. Help me get your other boot off?"

"Caaaan't." He whines and I can't help but find him cute. Strike that, adorable. He'd kill me if he could read my mind. I wish I could make sense of what I'm feeling. I like Alvin, I am  _attracted_ to Alvin but is that because he's just so very in need right now? I feel good, like I'm protecting him and being his friend when he needs me most. Maybe I'm turning into Leia, maybe I've seen something broken and just have to fix it... But I'm having dreams about him for pity's sake. And not innocent dreams at that. I sigh loudly, I think I should just concentrate on him right now. Not me. Not me and him. Not how he pressed up against me outside the door. Not how much I enjoyed the small amount of contact. Not how he will probably betray me again. Definitely not how he probably won't remember  _any_ of this in the morning. I shake my head at my own angst and redouble my efforts on the stubborn armour.

"Don't be mad?" Both eyes are open now and looking at me with a worried expression.

"Ah!" I say in triumph as the boot finally looses our battle; "Why would I be mad? You should probably sleep now or you'll never be able to face the morning."

"I don't want to face the morning." He doesn't sound drunk any more, but he has shut his eyes again and I have a feeling he wouldn't be talking so frankly if he wasn't. He reopens his eyes as I'm frowning up at him from my position at the foot of his bed, I think he might want to elaborate so I move up to sit next to him settling with my back against the headboard and legs stretched out in front of me with a few inches between us, I tilt my head to one side and wait for him to speak. He looks to be in deep thought and I start to worry about what he might say. I'm caught off guard when he finally utters the words so quietly, so sincerely, that I am sure that this is the first time that Alvin has ever spoken to me about something that actually matters. "My mother. Uh... She died."

I close my eyes; "Oh Alvin. I'm so sorry." I reach down to rest my hand on his arm, he growls and rolls off the bed with grace I wouldn't have believed him capable of in his current state.

"ALFRED!" He shouts across the room, hair and eyes wild, fists clenched at his sides looking for all the world like a feral and wounded animal. I move into a low crouch on the bed, arms raised before me, ready to defend myself should I have to. I hope I don't have to. There is a a strange look in Alvin's eyes, like he is at war with himself over something and I really hope he isn't thinking of a way to take me down. I assume he is still armed, his sword is leaning against the wall opposite but I wouldn't expect him to leave his gun or his knife behind and drunk as he undoubtedly is I know he will be a challenge. A knock at the door interrupts my hurried thoughts and Alvin meets my gaze. He visibly tries to compose himself but I can see that he is shaking and before I can utter a word to stop him he has flung open the door. He stares down at Milla with an unreadable expression before reaching for his gun. I am across the room and in front of Milla before I think of the consequences, she looks suspicious and has her had resting on the hilt of her weapon.

"Hi Milla!" I say, far too brightly, "Alvin and I are just discussing tactics... He er, he just showed me a dodge I hadn't thought of..." LAME. But it is all I can come up with under the pressure of her intense gaze. She knows I'm lying, Alvin (if he is listening) knows I'm lying and I think I'm an idiot. But I need her to leave. Quickly. She opens her mouth to speak to the mercenary and obviously thinks better of it. Eyeing Alvin she says quietly, "Jude, I am in the room below if you need me. I will hear you should you call."

I smile in what I'd like to think is a confident, cheerful, I might be about to witness a murder if you don't leave, kind of way and assure her that everything is fine. That I'll be heading back to my room shortly as we're both tired and Alvin has finished teaching me... I try not to shut the door in the Lord of Spirits face but that is practically what it comes down to. I turn back to the tall man in time to watch a solitary tear fall down his cheek, he makes a strange noise and turns to face the wall. His shoulders are really shaking now. "Al... Fred?" I clear my throat nervously and approach him, I lay a gentle hand between his shoulder blades and gradually ease his large coat off before loosening his scarf from behind and pulling it over his head. He stands staring at the wall during my movements and when I return my hand to his back he is trembling like a leaf, he looks so much smaller, so fragile without the large brown garment. I hope I never have to see him like this ever again. I turn him slowly away from the wall and lead him back to the bed, he is silent and compliant as I lie him down and pull the covers over him.

"'m sorry Jude." He mutters, eyes closed and curling up into the foetal position.

I am so drained from tonight's series of events, the exhaustion hits me and I feel myself sway. "It's all right, get some sleep. I've left water here for you and I'll see you in the morning." Even as I'm saying it I know that my comrade shouldn't really be left alone. I take in his face and notice his eyes open and staring at me. This isn't quite over is it? I reach out to touch him, to stroke his cheek and he flinches away, scooting over to the other side of the bed.

"No." Just no. No what? He doesn't want me here any more I assume, doesn't want me to touch him so intimately.

"Alfred? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to touch you like that. I'll go now." I tell him softly, quashing down the small feeling of... Rejection?

"You said you wouldn't leave me." What? Okay I am officially confused. Am I staying or going?

"I'd only be across the hall..."

"No! You're leaving me. They all do." He sounds so broken, "I'm nothing... I'm... Nothing." His voice trails off and he covers his head with the blankets. My heart breaks in that instant. Shatters in my chest and I know that for as long as I live I will  _never_ let Alvin feel this way  _ever_ again. I don't even think about the consequences or the possible soul crushing rejection (I guess that  _was_ what I felt) as I climb into Alvin's bed and pull him into my arms. He stiffens in my embrace and I ready myself for the shove away, for the blow that never comes. He hesitantly puts his arms around my waist and lets out a small noise, hiding his head in my lap. He cries in earnest and I do too, until we both fall into a fitful sleep.


End file.
